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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26428417">Blindsided</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll'>YanderexBabydoll</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged up characters, F/M, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reverse Harem, Team Manager Reader, Very light smut, Yandere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:27:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26428417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Being Inarizaki's manager comes with a whole host of issues at Nationals. Can you blame them for being a little protective?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Inarizaki Volleyball Club/Reader, Kita Shinsuke/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Ojiro Aran/Reader, Suna Rintarou/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>HAIKYUU|HQ</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blindsided</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In hindsight, it wasn’t like they didn’t give you every chance to prove that you were dedicated wholeheartedly to them and them <em>alone</em>.<b><br/>
</b></p><p>Well, maybe not every chance, but three. Three opportunities to do the right thing. </p><p>They can hardly be held at fault because you failed to do so. </p><p>This isn’t a punishment. They’re not doing it because they enjoy the fear in your teary eyes, the way you tremble and beg for them to stop. They don’t particularly enjoy hurting you.</p><p>(That’s not to say they won’t enjoy certain <em>other</em> aspects of it, though.)</p><p>But it’s really your own fault that it’s come to this. </p><p>You are Inarizaki’s beloved manager and they <em>adore</em> you, you can’t blame them for being a little protective.</p><p>***</p><p>You can feel it in the air, the anticipation that’s been building since you’d stepped off the bus late last night. While it’s all old hat for the guys - they’ve been doing national tournaments since high school - for you it’s a whole new experience.</p><p>And while they’re determined to win (and they always do - you have nothing but faith in your team), you’re determined to prove that while you’re still figuring out this whole manager thing, you deserve to be standing right there beside them. </p><p>That you can be useful, even though they’ve assured you a thousand times before that you are.</p><p>Their first game isn’t until the afternoon, but of course they’re already at the gym before most of the morning matches are even finished. </p><p>“To ensure plenty of time for warm ups,” Kita tells you.</p><p>“To scope out the competition,” Ginjima corrects, shooting you a wicked grin and winking conspiratorially.</p><p>Still, despite the earlier start, you don’t mind. It gives you plenty of time to get set up. Water bottles have to be filled and you want to run through some of the notes you’ve prepared of the other teams in your bracket, more for your own sake than theirs - and of course, you’ll be there to help the guys warm up as well, making sure they’re all stretched out and in perfect form. </p><p>Though that usually just means the twins monopolising your time while the others pretend they either don’t notice or don’t care (to mixed success).</p><p>They’ve just started to make their way to the practice courts to stretch when you decide to go on the water bottle run. Even at Nationals, it’s kind of a mundane task and your mind’s a thousand miles away when an unfamiliar voice interrupts.</p><p>“Inarizaki, huh?” </p><p>You glance up from the faucet to see the newcomer - a guy maybe a few years older than yourself, decked out in a navy blue and white tracksuit. From the bottle holder in his hands and the messenger bag slung over his shoulder, your guess is another manager - though it’s not super common for men to take the position, it’s not unheard of.</p><p>Either way, you’re that lost in your own thoughts that the words he’s said haven’t sunk in, and you’re left staring at him with a vaguely startled expression as you unscrew the lid on the last bottle.</p><p>“I’m sorry?” </p><p>He smiles kindly, setting his bag down to come up to the taps beside you. “Inarizaki - your team, right? I recognised the colours,” he says, gesturing at your uniform. “I saw you guys play at Nationals last year. Those freak twins of yours are something else!”</p><p>There’s a tiny twinge at the moniker, but you know there’s no real malice behind it - Atsumu and Osamu would probably be delighted with the nickname.</p><p>“They’re pretty incredible,” you agree. The name embroidered on his jacket doesn’t ring a bell - his team definitely isn’t in your bracket, and they’re not one of the ones you researched going into the competition. It doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re not a threat - just that if they are, they’re a dark horse. </p><p>Yet he seems friendly enough you don’t exactly see the harm in stopping for a moment to chat while you finish up. You learn that it’s his third time at Nationals, though his team’s never made it past the first and second rounds. They’re from Saitama and supposedly their libero is one of the best around - you bite back a smile at that one. Maybe you’ve been kind of spoiled managing a powerhouse like Inarizaki, but you’ve seen Akagi’s receives, the lightning fast speed of his reflexes, the frankly incredible accuracy he has when he’s digging the ball up - it would take one hell of a libero to make you stop and take notice.</p><p>But of course you just nod politely. No need to be cocky, your boys can manage that just fine by themselves. </p><p>And despite barely taking a second to breathe between sentences, he’s actually pretty nice. Nice enough that you don’t quite know how to exit the conversation now that all of your bottles are filled without seeming rude. Thankfully - because god knows how long you would have stood there smiling and humming along halfheartedly otherwise - he notices the neatly stacked bottles at your feet after a minute or two of excited rambling.</p><p>The tips of his ears turn pink and he’s quick to push his glasses up the bridge of his long nose, “Ah, right. Yeah, sorry - kinda got carried away there a bit… Do you need a hand carrying them back?”</p><p>You’re saved from answering by a cool voice calling your name. The other manager - you never did catch his name - jerks in surprise, almost dropping the half filled bottle in his hand, but you just glance over your shoulder (only <em>slightly</em> abashed), knowing perfectly well who that voice belongs to.</p><p>Sure enough, standing in the open doorway eyeing the both of you is your captain, face impassive save for the slight downward curl at the corner of his lips. Kita doesn’t get angry, or irritated - at least not outwardly - but you know him well enough to know that he’s definitely not pleased. </p><p>“She can manage just fine,” he says, even as he’s reaching to pick up one of the bottle holders. “Shouldn’t ya be a bit more worried about lookin’ after your own team?”</p><p>You don’t exactly blame the guy for blanching -  your captain can be downright frosty when he wants to be, and the look he’s shooting the other manager is none too friendly. But before he can pass comment, Kita’s attention has already shifted back to you.</p><p>“Come on,” he says, handing you the other bottles. “We need to get back to the others. We’ve been gone long enough.”</p><p>You really only have a chance to throw a sheepish parting smile over your shoulder as Kita leads you out. He’s quiet, which in itself isn't unusual, but you can’t help but feel like you’re walking on eggshells as the two of you head side by side back to the training court where the rest of the team is waiting - mostly because you’re getting the distinct impression that he’s not all that impressed with you right now.</p><p>There’s a pit of guilt sitting heavy in your stomach. You know that at the end of the day, talking to another manager is harmless - and it’s not like you actually did all that much talking to begin with - but you must have dawdled longer than you thought if Kita felt the need to come searching for you.</p><p>Damn it. You’re supposed to be helping the team, not causing unnecessary distractions for them before their first match.</p><p>“Kita,” you murmur, and he stops in his tracks and turns to look back at you with that same unreadable look that drives you half mad sometimes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… taken so long with the water run, I guess. I didn’t mean to.”</p><p>Something in his eyes softens just a fraction, and he nods. “Thought ya might’ve gotten lost,” is all he says, but it’s decidedly less cold than earlier and you can’t help the small smile that creeps across your face.</p><p>Suna gives the two of you an odd look when you finally make it back to the court, but you hardly have time to focus on that when Atsumu’s already tugging you off to pass him balls to set for ‘Samu, Aran and Ginjima. </p><p>Sequestered away in a corner on the opposite side of the court Oomimi and Kita are talking quietly amongst themselves, shooting furtive glances your way every so often.</p><p>“Nice kill!”</p><p>Of course, you’re far too wrapped up in Gin’s spikes to notice the growing frown on the middle blocker’s face.</p><p>***</p><p>They won.</p><p>It’s not exactly a surprise, you knew from about halfway through the first set that while the other team was good - it’s Nationals, all the teams are <em>good</em>, they wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise - they didn’t really hold a candle to your boys. Still, that does little to dampen the rush of excitement and pride that surges through you as you’re all but mobbed the moment they step off the court - first by the twins, then Akagi, and before you know all eight of them are on you, arms wrapped around your waist, slung over your shoulder, a hand ruffling your hair. They’re sweaty and a bit gross and you couldn’t care less, unable to stop the beaming grin that graces your face. </p><p>You’re just so proud of them. Maybe you should have grown out of that wide eyed awe whenever you see them play, but six months in and you still can’t quite believe just how talented they really are.</p><p>Of course, that’s not to say that they’re perfect, or even that the game itself was all that flawless. Atsumu still got shitty whenever his impossibly high standards weren’t met, and Osamu never failed to take the chance to egg him on while Suna helpfully scoffed and rolled his eyes in the background, and it did take both Oomimi and Aran to calm Ginjima down when one of the middle blockers from the other team started slinging insults over the net just to rile him up - but the fact remains that when they play to their strengths, they’re incredible.</p><p>You’re still beaming like an idiot fifteen minutes later when you’re all packed up and the team’s heading out. Walking with Suna and Atsumu, the latter’s arm slung over your shoulders, you’re halfway through raving about the final play when you catch sight of a familiar face walking towards you.</p><p>You stop in your tracks, jaw falling slack at the same time that his eyes meet yours.</p><p>Holy shit.</p><p>“Y/N?”</p><p>“Ichiro?!”</p><p>A laugh bubbles up and before you can stop yourself you’re shrugging Atsumu’s arm off your shoulder, dropping your bag and racing towards him. Strong, muscled arms wrap around your waist and you find yourself lifted from the ground as he spins you around in a crushing bear hug.</p><p>“Oh my god, I had no idea you were still playing volleyball!” you say when he finally sets you back on your feet.</p><p>Ichiro grins, “As if I’d ever let all this talent go to waste! And why am I not the least bit surprised to see you here, managing yet another stellar team?” he replies, winking for good measure because he knows after all this time it’ll still make you flustered.</p><p>And it does, much to his amusement.</p><p>You’re so caught up in seeing him again that for a moment you forget entirely about the team standing at your back, watching all of this unfold with a myriad of expressions, none of them particularly pleased. </p><p>Yet it’s Suna who makes the first move, sauntering up to the two of you with a mask of boredom. Narrowed eyes study the rival volleyball player, sizing him up for a single moment before disregarding him entirely to focus back on you. </p><p>“You can’t just drop your shit and run off on us like that,” he mutters, though he makes no move to pass the bag he’s shouldered back to you. </p><p>“Who’s the scrub?”</p><p>“Gettin’ awfully familiar there with our manager, ain’tcha? Ya <em>might</em> wanna take yer hands off ‘a her.”</p><p>You barely, <em>barely</em> manage to refrain from rolling your eyes as the twins come to join you three, looking positively hostile as they glare at Ichiro. You know that they mean well, they’ve always been protective, sometimes almost suffocatingly so, but you can’t really find it in yourself to hold it against them. “Relax, would you? Guys, this is Ichiro - he was our school’s volleyball captain back when I was a first year manager.”</p><p>Ichiro, either oblivious or unbothered by the frosty reception from Suna and the twins, sticks his hand out. “Kimura Ichiro, it’s nice to meet you guys.”</p><p>Suna ignores him outright, Atsumu sneers at the offered hand like it’s diseased, and Osamu just snorts, dropping an elbow to dangle off your shoulder, leering at him with that smug, decidedly unfriendly smirk of his.</p><p>
  <em>Boys.</em>
</p><p>Before any of them can say anything however, another voice interrupts; Kita’s. </p><p>“Y/N. The bus is waiting.”</p><p>You glance back over your shoulder to reassure him you’ll be right there only to freeze in place, the words dying on the tip of your tongue. </p><p>Atsumu isn’t the only one glaring.</p><p>***</p><p>A warm body settles onto the bench beside you, leaning up against your side to peer over your shoulder.</p><p>“Who’re ya textin’?” </p><p>You grin a little, turning off your phone and sliding it back in your pocket so you can face the frowning blonde. “None of your business.”</p><p>***</p><p>There’s a knock on your door a few minutes after six, and you open the door to find Aran freshly showered and smiling softly at you. “We’re headin’ out for dinner soon, ya coming?”</p><p>“Nah, you guys go on ahead,” you reply.</p><p>There’s a short pause and you watch as Aran’s brow furrow in what you can only assume is concern.</p><p>“You’re not going to eat? Y/N, ya need-”</p><p>You smile, quickly shaking your head, “No, no I am, promise! You remember the friend of mine from yesterday?” You wait for him to nod, which he does - slowly. “He invited me to go out with him and his team for dinner tonight. They got knocked out of the tournament today so it’s kind of a commiseration slash catch up thing. It’ll be fun.”</p><p>Yet your beaming grin does little to allay the apprehension on the co-captain’s face. If anything, the crinkle between his brows grows even more pronounced. “Yer going out with them? The whole team?”</p><p>“Yeah, just to the onigiri joint down the road, and maybe a drink after? I promise I won’t be out late or anything, I know we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” you reassure.</p><p>Aran appraises you for a long moment. “Ya really think that’s a smart move? Going out to party with a bunch ‘a strangers right in the middle of Nationals?”</p><p>“They’re not strangers, I’ve known Ichiro since I was <em>fifteen</em>. And it’s just dinner, Aran, not like I’m going bar hopping downtown. There’s nothing to worry about.”</p><p>You can tell from the set of his jaw that he wants to say more, but he’s overreacting. This isn’t high school, and you’re not some naive little idiot, you can take care of yourself just fine without him or Kita watching over you.</p><p>“I’ll be fine. Now go out with the others and celebrate your win, you guys deserve it!”</p><p>He sighs, and before you know it you're tucked up into his chest, his chin resting on your forehead. </p><p>“It’d be better if you were there to celebrate with us. Yer supposed to be <em>our</em> manager after all.”</p><p>You snort, “Are you trying to guilt trip me, Ojiro?”</p><p>His hold doesn’t loosen, and you feel the laughter rumble through his chest. “Is it workin’?”</p><p>***</p><p>Twenty minutes later you’ve cleaned up pretty well, dressed in the only somewhat nice piece of clothing you brought with you - a summer dress with a flowing skirt that falls to your mid thighs. It’s cute, one of your favourites actually, and you’re glad you slipped it into your bags before you left. It’s not like this is a date - definitely not with a team of nine other volleyball players joining you - but you still want to look pretty.</p><p>And you are kind of excited. Aside from being a familiar face in the crowd at a few of your later high school games, you haven’t seen Ichiro since he graduated, but he’s always been like a big brother to you. You honestly don’t think you’d still be involved in volleyball if not for the impact he’d had on you in your first year. </p><p>But when you breeze past the common area of the hotel you’re staying at, you’re surprised to find that the guys are still there, sprawled out across the furniture deep in conversation. </p><p>“I thought you guys were going out to eat?” you say, pausing in the open doorway.</p><p>Eight pairs of eyes snap towards you and you’re suddenly struck with the feeling that you’ve interrupted something serious.</p><p>“We were. Somethin’ came up,” Kita replies after a beat. </p><p>Surely you’re imagining the slight edge in his tone, right? </p><p>“… is everything okay?”</p><p>You’re still their manager - if there’s an issue then you’ll stay to fix it, that’s your job, but more importantly you genuinely care about your team, and something is <em>definitely</em> up with them.</p><p>“Nothin’ you need to worry about,” comes the clipped reply.</p><p>You open your mouth to say something - you’re not exactly sure what, but they’re acting strange and it’s putting you on edge - when Suna scoffs. “Don’t you have a dinner to get to?” </p><p>“Wouldn’t wanna keep the captain an’ his team waitin’, now wouldja, sweetheart?” Atsumu drawls, fixing you with that mocking sneer he usually only saves for his competitors. </p><p>“‘Specially when you’re dolled up all nice and pretty for ‘em,” Osamu adds.</p><p>Usually, when the twins start acting like asses one of the others - usually Oomimi or Aran, if not Kita himself - step in to rein them back in, but as you glance around the room, none of them make a sound. Akagi won’t even meet your eye.</p><p>Ah.</p><p>Cool. That’s how they’re gonna be about it.</p><p>You bite back a sigh, burying the faint flicker of hurt that lances through your chest, offering them a tight smile instead, “Alright, well you guys have fun. Call me if you need anything.”</p><p>You don’t give them a chance to reply before you stalk off. You love them, you do, but sometimes they get so petty about the weirdest things and you haven’t quite figured out yet how to deal with it. </p><p>But in the end, you know you won’t hold it against them. You chalk whatever… weirdness this is up to Nationals - the pressure they’re under to perform is immense and the whole testosterone filled atmosphere certainly isn’t helping things. You’ll give them the night to sort whatever issues they’re having out amongst themselves and tomorrow, you’ll get back to work. </p><p>You’re here to win, after all. </p><p>***</p><p>It’s possible that you stayed out just a touch later than you should have. It’s <em>also </em>possible that one drink might have turned into two or three, and by the time you sneak back into the hotel, the lights in the guys rooms are all out. </p><p>But it’s habit that you shoot Kita a text as you make your way down the narrow hallways towards your room, letting him know you’ve made it back safe and sound. </p><p>Except the text message is unnecessary, because when you unlock the door and stumble inside, you find the captain himself sitting propped up on the edge of your bed, staring at you with an impassive gaze.</p><p>For a split second, you freeze, thinking that in your slightly buzzed state, you’ve somehow managed to walk into the wrong room. But you’re not that drunk, and that’s definitely your suitcase you spy tucked neatly away at the foot of the bed.</p><p>Kita doesn’t so much as lift a brow at your sudden appearance, he simply sighs, dark eyes following you as you awkwardly step further inside and let the door swing shut behind you.</p><p>“K-kita? What are you… is everything okay?”</p><p>Your mouth feels dry, and your heart flutters uncomfortably in your chest. You know Kita, you <em>trust</em> Kita, but finding him here, waiting for you in your bedroom, feels… like an invasion of privacy, almost. </p><p>But he wouldn’t be here unless there was a good reason, right?</p><p>He’s never been one to mince words, but as he slowly pushes himself to his feet and closes the distance between the two of you, you’re expecting a little more of an explanation than, “I really wish ya hadn’t forced my hand.”</p><p>It’s only when you take a miniscule step back and hit a warm, hard body that you realise the two of you aren’t alone.</p><p>Panic surges through you, and you instinctively you jump - try and skitter away, apologies already forming on the tip of your tongue. Two brawny arms stop you in your tracks, curling possessively around your waist - keeping you in place.</p><p>“Hey, hey - relax, it’s just me.” You recognise the rich baritone voice at your ear all too well. </p><p>Almost from the moment you met him, Aran has been one of your closest friends - the first person you turn to when you’re feeling out of your depth. He’s the one who convinced you to join the team, with Kita’s blessing of course. His words <em>should</em> put you at ease, and maybe they would have, if you hadn’t felt his lips brush against your neck, just below the curve of your jaw.</p><p>No.</p><p>Eyes widen, your heart skips a beat, and as if somebody’s upended a bucket of ice over you, cold terror spikes through you like a shockwave. This is wrong - Aran’s kiss, the sharp, predatory gleam in Kita’s eyes as he stares, the fact that they’re in your room so late at night to begin with. Maybe it’s all a big misunderstanding (they're your teammates, your <em>friends,</em> they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you), but in that moment your gut <em>twists</em> and the only thing you want to do is run and hide.</p><p>“L-let me go,” you demand, your breath shaky and weak.</p><p>Kita shakes his head as a knock sounds on the door. “Ya brought this on yourself, but… we’ll take care of you. I promise. None of us wanna hurt ya.”</p><p>Before you can even begin to comprehend his words he closes the gap between you with a kiss. It’s brief, little more than a peck - sweet under any other circumstances - but when he pulls away his pupils are dilated, his breath just a little unsteady while you’re left shaken and reeling.</p><p>He doesn’t say a word when he moves around you to answer the door, and Aran’s grip merely tightens as you start to struggle, tears welling in your eyes and breathless, terrified pleas falling from your lips. “Don’t make this any worse than it has to be,” he murmurs quietly, fingers stroking your side in an attempt to soothe.</p><p>A low whistle sounds, followed by a chuckle as one by one, the rest of your team file in and settle themselves around the room.</p><p>Oomimi. Akagi. Ginjima. Suna. And the twins last of all, eyeing you up and down with matching smirks. If any of them are surprised to see you shaking and crying in Aran’s arms, they hide it well.</p><p>The sickening pit of dread sitting heavy in your stomach tells you otherwise.</p><p>“Please,” you whisper tearfully, searching each of their faces for a reprieve you know you won’t get. “<em>Please</em>…”</p><p>Once upon a time, those tears might have been enough to move them, but you’ve crossed a line you weren’t even aware had been drawn, and even if you hadn’t, whether you knew it o not, this has been a long time coming.</p><p>“Shh shh shh,” Atsumu coos, taking a step towards you. “Don’t cry. You made a mistake, sweetheart. We’re just lettin’ ya fix it.”</p><p>“Ya love us, right?” ‘Samu chimes in, mirroring his brother.</p><p>“Do anything for us?”</p><p>“Yer our manager, right? Aren’t ya supposed to be lookin’ after us? Or didja forget that, on that little date of yours?”</p><p>You’re desperately shaking your head, babbling out stuttered apologies for whatever it is you’ve done, whatever it is that’s driven them to act like this, but it hardly makes a difference.</p><p>The twins don’t seem interested in your apologies - none of them do.</p><p>Aran’s grip relents as they draw closer. He knows as well as you do that there’s no escaping this. Not now. </p><p>“Maybe that’s our fault though.”</p><p>“For lettin’ ya think you could get away with bein’ a slut when yer clearly <em>ours</em>.”</p><p>Your cheeks burn bright with humiliation and fear, and you can’t stop the whimper that leaves your lips. You’ve never wanted to curl up and disappear more.</p><p> “Stop teasin’ her, that’s not why we’re here,” Oomimi interjects, and it might’ve filled you with a tiny semblance of relief if, when you glanced his way, he wasn’t slowly stroking the growing bulge in his sweats.</p><p>Like a single crack in the dam, that’s all it takes for the flood waters to burst. </p><p>Osamu’s lips meet yours, and unlike with Kita, there’s nothing gentle or sweet about it. It’s hungry and demanding, his tongue forcing its way between your lips to try and coax you into playing along. Your dress is ripped, torn by rough, careless hands and discarded like scraps at your feet, and the pretty lace bra you were wearing follows suit. There’s a shuddered gasp and a low groan of appreciation from one of the others (Akagi you think), but Atsumu just grins, his hands finding your shoulders - and suddenly you’re being ripped from ‘Samu and pushed back onto the plush mattress. </p><p>“She’s not a fucking ragdoll, asshole,” Suna mutters, shrugging off his own shirt to make his way towards the bed.</p><p>But Atsumu’s already on top of  you, greedily palming at your tits while his mouth sucks wet, open mouth kisses along the column of your throat.</p><p>“Bite me, Rin,” he growls out distractedly. </p><p>Coming around to your other side, his twin makes another quip and somebody else laughs, but you can’t focus on any of that when Atsumu starts grinding his hips against you, and you can feel the hard length of his cock dragging along your thighs.</p><p>Desperate, wide eyes flit across the room, searching for Kita. You find him leaning against the wall by the window, arms folded loosely over his chest as he watches you struggle, trapped beneath Atsumu.</p><p>One word from him, and they’ll stop, you know they will. They’ll listen to their captain. </p><p>“Atsumu,” he calls, the barest hint of a warning edging his tone. The blonde groans, stopping his ministrations to glance over at Kita. </p><p>Stupid, foolish hope blooms in your chest, only to be brutally snuffed out by the next words that leave his lips-</p><p>“Wait yer turn.”</p><p>***</p><p>It’s Kita who stays after the others have left - sated and pleased, heading back to their own rooms to get some much needed rest before their games tomorrow - his fingers running soothingly through your hair as you sob and whimper pathetically beside him. </p><p>“You know we love ya more than anythin’. Osamu’s right, you're <em>ours, </em>now ya won’t forget it.”</p><p>The words are surprisingly soft. Gentle. He means them, and it only serves to make you cry harder.</p>
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